


i loved and i lost you

by monkkeyslut



Category: The Lorien Legacies - All Media Types, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Recovery, Spoilers, coming to terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5102207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkkeyslut/pseuds/monkkeyslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here is something Henri never thought to teach you: how to mourn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i loved and i lost you

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for The Fate of Ten.

Here is something Henri never thought to teach you: how to mourn your mate.

\--

There is emptiness for a while. You understand that it is Sam whose arms are wrapped tight around you, and Nine’s voice snapping at Walker to s _tay back, leave him the fuck alone_ , but there is only her soft voice in your ear, surrounding you, swallowing you.

_I love you...I always..._

\--

When you and the rest of the Garde erase Setrakus Ra from existence, your combined Legacies dusting him, you don’t feel much of anything. Yes, you smile at the Garde, new and old, and you hug your friends and make sure everyone who needs healing is helped, but there is something hollow in your chest where Sarah used to be.

It nearly made you blind with rage when a sobbing Six held a dead Sam in her arms, and life flowed back into him. It was like Sam was a stream blocked by a stone and Six pushed it out of the way, allowing the water to move past once again, unhindered.

_Sarah is dead_ , you told yourself, hugging Sam. _Rotting. You can’t resurrect her now._ Even when you had to bring back another Garde later, the new Legacy lighting you up from inside, you repeated it in your mind.

She should be here, you think now. Kissing you, victorious and brilliant, blaster on her hip and hair flying in the wind. She should not be buried in a small cemetery in Paradise, only a small stone in the ground telling people who she was.

(You do not think about how her parents held the funeral while you and your friends were saving the world. You do not think about how clear they were when they did not tell you the time or date of her wake and burial. Why would they want their daughter’s killer at her funeral?)

Marina wraps her fingers around yours, uncurling your clenched fist and fitting her fingers in carefully, slowly like you might spook. The chaos around them is happy and cheerful, full of accented cheers and tears.

When you look down at your friend, at Seven, you see the same pain reflected there, although muted. Marina believed that the Loric mated for life. Marina watched the person she loved die, held him in her arms as his breath left him and then watched him die again.

You pull her into a hug, and the tears you cry can be mistaken as happiness.

\--

They give you all a house.

A manor, really, nestled in the mountains in Colorado.

The others had chosen the place, much to the annoyance of Walker, and made sure it was far enough away from political and military presence, while also not being completely secluded. They aren’t near any big malls or movie theatres, but getting to one these days isn’t hard. The town close to them accepts them for the most part, so long as they don’t send the mountain down around them.

(“It was one time,” Nine grumbled, sitting in a chair at the table, while Five moped in the corner. It had only been one time, but that one time had cost them the local clothing store that they all had to pay and help fix.)

Most of the new Garde still live with their parents, often only coming on the weekends or during their summer vacations. It helps that one of the Loralite stones they can use to teleport long distances appeared not far from their new home.

This is fine by you, because you don’t think you could handle having hundreds of other people around, asking questions and wanting to hear stories about the Garde and their victories, the few that there were. You’re exhausted from answering the government's’ questions, exhausted from listening to Six tell Sarah’s parents over the phone how their daughter died.

Mostly, these days you’re just tired. Constantly, bone-achingly tired. You try to keep up a good show; sparring with Nine and breaking up fights between Five and whoever; practicing new recipes with Marina and trying out new Legacies while Ella coaches. Learning about Lorien with Lexa is when things really start to look up, because there is so much information, and you don’t have any time to think about anything else. Sam and Daniela like to drag you around on nature walks, even though neither of them particularly like nature.

You don’t speak to Six.

It’s hard, seeing her some days. It makes you sick or it makes you angry or it makes you sad, but you are rarely happy to see her. And that isn’t fair, you know. Six was the first Garde you met, she was important to you in ways that you didn’t really understand, your second; she knew how much you loved Sarah, and how much you would risk to protect her.

So how could she let Sarah die? Let her get _torn apart_.

You’re angry most days, too. Angry because Sarah wouldn’t want you mourning her for this long. She would be so angry, so disappointed with how he was alienating Six (and Sam, too, because those two were rarely apart) but he can’t help it. He looks at Six and sees her carrying Sarah’s body down the ramp, bloody and broken.

You try to move on, but it’s so hard.

\--

Sometimes, Marina moves in jerking motions.

She always looks embarrassed after, as if she should be ashamed after surviving being thrown around like a rag doll, most of her bones broken inside her for nearly a day until you could do something about it. Whenever she opens her mouth to apologize for it, Nine speaks loudly over her, complaining about something else, or mocking someone, and she looks away, cheeks heated.

(You don’t know what the fuck is up with Nine. Sometimes he looks at Five like he wants to eat him alive; other times like he can’t wait to rip his pants off. When he looks at Marina, his eyes are soft and sorry, and he is always gentle with her, even when she yells at him not to be.)

You know that some of her bones will never be completely fixed. Her left hand can’t curl into a proper fist anymore; the bones too fine and too damaged beyond repair for you to fix, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

Marina makes you calm, makes the hurt less. Maybe it’s because she knows how it feels to lose someone you loved. It isn’t like Henri, or the other Cepan. Those hurt, but losing Sarah, losing Eight...it was like someone reached inside your chest and pulled out your heart.

You can’t explain it; you don’t feel this way about One, Two, or Three (although you and Marina think maybe Adam might).

Sometimes, the two of you fall asleep together. In beds, at the kitchen table, on the couches in the den, on the grass in the training field. It’s usually Ella who finds you, who lies down between you, eyes old.

You often forget that you aren’t the only one who lost someone. This is your biggest shame.

\--

“Talk to me,” Six snaps one night, stepping out of the shadows beside the large garage.

You’re sweaty from your run, chest aching in a good way from pushing yourself. The air is better up high, the mountain a good way to push yourself. You like to run, even though you think too much.

So when you see Six, her eyes angry and blazing, you want to turn back around and run. The most either of you have said to each other in the past nine months has been a hello or goodnight, or asking about the weather. She has given you the distance you made so obviously clear you needed, and you’re grateful for it.

But apparently she is done with it.

She steps forward, shoving a hand into your chest, fingers gripping your shirt as she pulls you toward her. You notice that her eyes are a little crazed, too, not just angry. She’s desperate. “You want to fight, John? We can fight, but you need to--you have to stop ignoring me.”

You know. You know, but it still hurts. “I’m sorry,” you mutter hand grabbing at hers weakly, palms sweaty, aching to flare up, to burn away the pain and everything else you’ve been harbouring, aching to make things right between you two because she’s your friend and you love her.

You love her. Six, your friend, your second, your right hand. Sam is your best friend but what you and Six have is Loric in nature, closer than friends but not lovers; still, you love her, care for her, and you are suddenly, explosively sorry, pulling her into your grasp as you both fall to your knees, ignoring the ache of them hitting the concrete.

Six goes limp against you, face pressed to your shoulder despite the sweat that coats your skin and seeps through your shirt. “I’m sorry,” she whispers miserably, fingers light against your ribs. You hold her as tightly as you can, leaning into her, hoping she can feel how sorry you are, how terrible you feel for the last few months.

“Me too,” you say anyway, voice thick with tears. You feel lighter, tired but not in the same way as before. This exhaustion feels like it might have an end. “I shouldn’t have blamed you, Six. God, you must hate me. You have every right to hate me--”

“Sarah wouldn’t want that,” Six tells you, pulling away enough that she can meet your eyes, hard, unyielding grey. “She would want all of us to be happy. To make the most of this life we’ve fought so desperately to have. Even...even if it isn’t with her.”

You know she is right, but your jaw quivers regardless, eyes burning and throat thick. “I know that. I just--I miss her so much, Six.”

“I know,” Six tells you, pressing her forehead to yours, eyes shutting softly. “Me too.”

The two of you sit that way for a long, long time.

\--

Things look up once you and Six have dealt with your feelings and difficulties. And once you have stopped wallowing in your terrible guilt and self-pity, you begin to see things you hadn’t before.

Like the way Nine has a mark on his neck akin to a bruise, or how swollen Marina’s lips can be early in the morning; you definitely do not miss Five slipping from Nine’s room, quickly shifting from metal to rubber to human again when he catches you watching.

You notice the way Sam keeps looking at colleges, online classes or schools close to the manor. You notice how Six smiles when she catches him doing it too, proud and happy for him.

You notice Ella, staring off into nothing as if listening to something that isn’t there. In those moments, you will grab her hand and walk with her, quiet and listening as she tells you the things she saw, felt, and learned while possessed by the spirit of Lorien.

It’s odd, you know, seeing your friends--your family--happy and safe, for once not looking over their shoulders for monsters hiding in the shadows. Even Adam seems at ease and at peace with himself, always working with Malcolm and Lexa at thinking up new inventions and ideas.

It’s odd, but you love it.

\--

Her grave reads: SARAH HART; LOVING DAUGHTER AND FRIEND, and beneath those words, carved in a messy, kind scrawl, is the word HERO.

\--

After, there is this:

Six, smiling at you, bouncing a basketball as she attempts to move around you. Sam, standing on a stage with his degree. Adam, telling stories about One around a campfire, eyes soft. There is Nine, following Marina and staring at Five; Ella learning with Lexa, teaching with her and helping the new Garde. Marina, fingers laced tightly through Five’s and Nine’s.

Five’s hand curled tight as he stands before the monument of their fallen; eyes tracing over Eight’s name over and over.

Daniela, practicing her Legacies and grinning at you, star-bright. There is Malcolm and Mark and Walker and so many other people, and no, Sarah isn’t there, Sarah is gone some place beyond all of their reach, but this is because of her. Their safety, their happiness, their love.

Without Sarah, they would not have been there. Without her help, her confidence, her love and belief and sacrifice, there would be no Garde, no Loric. Just destruction and torment and Mogadorian Progress.

And, you think, years later as you stand before a new generation, she would be happy with how things turned out.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm still holding out hope that Sarah will be brought back, but who really knows. I really hadn't expected it, and I'm still super torn up about it.


End file.
